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Post by Valencia Scamander on Nov 27, 2008 6:42:00 GMT -5
&&Valencia [/size] nothing you can steal, nothing you can't touch[/right] The sky was bleak and gray, the clouds visibly shifting in the winds high about Valencia's head. It was getting darker earlier now, soon their would be hardly any hours of daylight left. Not a day to be practicing Quidditch; not time of year to be flying. That's what her roommates had warned out of politeness, not affection.
Valencia tore her eyes from the darkening sky to take a look at her companion. The girl had some balls, Val could admit to that. Walking up Kamilla and Val in broad daylight, asking to practice Quidditch with them. Why they had said yes Val was still not sure. Perhaps it was out of sheer surprise.
The girl in question was a small third year Slytherin, didn't look a day over thirteen. Val studied the girl a little more closely. The shoulder-length blonde hair, the scheming look in her eyes, the obviously faked bored smirk. The girl must of practiced this look in the mirror for hours, trying to master the perfect impression of smug insolence. She reminded Valencia of a certain Ravenclaw, one that had played games at being a schemer. Val hated her already.
The girl popped her gum; Val shivered. Her flying garb, as nice as it was to look at, was not made to withstand this weather. She regretted not bringing something to keep her warm while they waited. But Kamilla was being even more fashionably late than was considered normal behavior for someone so busy.
The little third year cocked her head, snapping her gum. Valencia could tell she was going to try and make conversation. And sure enough, the little one spoke.
"What year are you in again?"
Valencia didn't even look at her as she responded. "Fourth."
"House?" The girl was certainly inquisitive. But it may also be said that curiosity killed the cat.
"Ravenclaw." Valencia replied, glancing at the sky.
"Blood?" the girl said, innocently enough.
Valencia turned her head from the clouds. That was an odd question. It was like asking someone obviously over twenty five their age. She raised an eyebrow.
"Not that's in any of your business, but I'm a full blooded wizard."
The girl paused, looking for another thing to say. Finally, she managed to open her mouth. "Well, who is in your family, then? Please tell me you're not a Weasley."
This was beginning to bother Val. What was with all these questions? But she answered anyway. She wasn't one to be ashamed of her family.
"I'm a Scamander on my fathers side. Luna Lovegood is my mother."
The girl blinked. She obviously didn't read much. Valencia held back a sigh as she prepared to explain.
"Lovegood. You know, the Quibbler?" Val snapped. This one wasn't the brightest.
Something seemed to connect in the empty-headed girl's head, and her eyes lit up. But another silence followed. She was really going to have to quicken the pace if she hoped to be around Valencia and Kamilla again. Finally, she spoke.
"Sorry, but I'm wondering something. How does a Lovegood come to know Miss Lestrange?" The blond gave a cheerful grin filled with malice, and a little nod.
"How does a girl from a family of inbred hicks come to know two of the most feared girls in the school?" Valencia gave her own smirk, though she still didn't look at the girl directly.
The girl gaped. More silence. Looking towards the sky, Valencia hoped that Kamilla would arrive soon. Val might be convicted of homicide if she didn't.
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Post by Kamilla Lestrange on Dec 10, 2008 22:00:06 GMT -5
Pants, sweat, panic. They were absent in the dark corridor that Kamilla occupied. Her crooked, slender fingers traced a stone arch that had been so conveniently located in front of her. Her index finger darted in and out of the cracks that had now began to slightly crumble with age. Suddenly, her hands left the stable stone pillar and she ran outside to be underneath the gray mottled sky.
She was late and she didn't even have an excuse.
The lithe chaser had been wandering Hogwarts - broken, torn, confused, misguided. She was feeling the way she had forced Jon to feel but Kamilla could not bring herself out of her selfish misery to even contemplate the depth of the wounds she had brought upon others.
No. Instead, she had walked in an empty corridor, hearing its loneliness as the slight clap of her soles on the floor stole the silence.
Today was the first of November. Today, she had promised Valencia Scamander, her new partner in crime it so seemed, to practice Quidditch. She was late, tardy, and now she slowly - almost reluctantly- retreated towards the pitch.
Quidditch, for Kamilla, had always been pleasent. Unlike the prissy girls in her year, she actually enjoyed the stinging bite of the wind on her soft cheeks. She enjoyed having the wind tangle her brown hair and she relished the rush she received from her broom's smooth darts. Her father had loved Quidditch, still loved if she remembered correctly. He had been the one to teach her and guide her despite her mother's bitter complaints.
As Kamilla walked towards the Pitch, she ignored the marred sky. She had been hoping for a team practice but the season had decided to start late. It was suprising; usually, Quidditch was the largest event of the season but this year, it seemed that all the young, foolish folk were focused on becoming betrothed.
Ugh. How she hated that word. It had come to symbolize all the chaos in her life.
Scarlett King was annoying. She was rambunctious, haughty, arrogant, and worshipped Kamilla. Despite Kamilla's well - acted bits of annoyed rage, the sixteen year old girl secretly adored the praise she received from little Scarlett. To have such an arrogant girl idolizing her meant that Kamilla was worth being watched, adored, and praised. It meant that Kamilla met someone's high standards and for that, Kamilla was proud.
"Val, so sorry I'm late. Things . . .came up." She said lazily, vaguely as she bitterly, painfully remembered her conversation with Jon.
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Post by Valencia Scamander on Feb 14, 2009 15:05:53 GMT -5
&&Valencia [/size] nothing you can steal, nothing you can't touch[/right]
The girl and Val had sat in silence for a while now. The girl seemed to be trying to find a quip to match Val's, while Valencia pondered what the girl had said. She knew she couldn't let it bother her, but it did anyway. It was an awful experience.
What the hell was she doing here? Four months ago she wouldn't of even looked Kamilla's way. Milla was the heir to all the hatred and bigotry her parent's had fought so hard to end! What the bloody hell had happened to her?
The sound of feet on the grass brought Valencia out of her own head. She looked up to see the dark-haired girl crossing the pitch towards them.
Val liked to think she knew the sixth-year rather well, and she noticed that Milla wasn't looking her best. Well, Milla always looked her best, but there was something stunned and, dare she say, vulnerable about the Slytherin tonight.
Val walked towards Kamilla, not even bothering to look at the girl.. Scarlett! That was her name! God, who would name their child a color, anyway?
"Val, so sorry I'm late. Things . . .came up."
Valencia melted instantly. Something had happened, that was obvious enough. But she wasn't about to reveal it to Scarlett King. Everyone was untitled to their idols, even little arrogant fucks like Ms. King.
"All is well, Milla. We know you're a busy girl," Val said with the friendliest smile she could manage as the third year attempted to give off an air of class as she sauntered towards the girls
Scarlett was at Kamilla's side now; Val had to keep from gagging. “Milla! You look lovely. We should probably get practicing now, the clouds don't look so well,” the girl babbled, her blond hair bobbing up and down.
Valencia raised an eyebrow, and then turned to Kamilla. "Well, it is getting dark. I've got the quaffle over there, nothing else. I don't think any of are in the mood for bludgers tonight, and none of us are seekers, so I didn't get the snitch."
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